


Take Me

by hollybennett123



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-25
Updated: 2010-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has a request for John, and John is happy to oblige.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take Me

**Author's Note:**

> First posted August 2010, posted here March 2012 and backdated.  
> Written for a prompt in the sherlockkink community over at Livejournal. The prompt was [ ‘I want to see Sherlock (pref BBC, any other okay) begging John to "take him to bed", using that exact phrase. That's a phrase that pushes my Happy Buttons ^w^’.](http://community.livejournal.com/shkinkmeme/5516.html?thread=8963724#t8963724)  
> Unlike the fics I usually write, this is simply the build up to a sex scene and not the sex scene itself!

They’re sat relaxing in the flat, reading in comfortable silence. It’s a peaceful night, or at least as peaceful as one can hope for in a London apartment. The clock on the wall reads ten past midnight (it’s five minutes fast and damn it if John is going to put it right; Sherlock is taller and can reach the bloody thing, and it belongs to him anyway, the lazy sod).

Sherlock closes his book with a soft thump, and looks at John.

“Take me to bed,” Sherlock whispers, and it’s so quiet and so unexpected that at first John isn’t sure he heard him correctly.

“Um... what?”

“Take me to bed, John.” His voice is low and throaty and it sends sparks through John’s veins, alighting something in him. Sherlock unfastens the top button of his own crisp white shirt with elegant fingers, eyes fixed on John’s as though he can read his every thought. John swallows.

“Oh.”

“I want you to take me.” Full stop, end of sentence. John tilts his head to one side and frowns slightly.

“...to bed?” John finishes for him.

Sherlock looks pointedly at him, and he looks almost vulnerable; his voice doesn’t waver, sure of himself as always, but there’s something there brimming beneath the surface that John’s never seen in him before.

And then John realises what he means; the last time, there was no ‘to bed’ intended. No more drunken fumbles or quick, spur-of-the-moment sex to be enjoyed and never spoken of again. They don’t talk about it, not ever, but this time it’s going to mean something; there is a strange atmosphere in the room, and it feels as though something profound but intangible has shifted between them. The last two words swim in John’s head, and his body is thrumming with arousal already.

_Take me_

John stands and extends his hand, laces Sherlock’s fingers gently with his own and helps the other man from his chair. He pulls him gently towards the bedroom (John’s bedroom; _their_ bedroom?); he’s nervous as all hell but nothing has ever felt as right as this.

_Take me_

He does.  



End file.
